


just breathe

by viscarias



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Quality™ because i havent written fic in ages and i m rly rly rly bad at it ha, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, also im rly sorry if this isnt like, also there is the use of one (1) f-bomb i tried to limit the swearing, angst sadness and flower puking will ensue in this four part sob story, each of these povs is in the same timeline directly so it happens in the span of less than a day, ha ha, i kinda derailed in mh's part bc writing about jh got my heart aflutter sorry im a weak ass jun stan, i love timelines and the half-real clutch of time in our lives, lapslock sorry i hate capitalism and capitalisation, look i know i tagged 4 r/s but they r all unrequited ok this is about hanahaki disease 4 godsake, rly rly sorry !, seokmin jisoo seungcheol soonyoung and chan make very very minor appearances, tbh only rated teen n up for swearing this is so tame, this is super unbetaed and unedited i will look over it soon and edit it so it's Less A Bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscarias/pseuds/viscarias
Summary: minghao loves junhui, junhui loves wonwoo, wonwoo loves mingyu, and mingyu loves minghao. no one is happy and everyone is puking up flowers. angst and sadness and boys in unrequited love.-sure is some fairy tale i’m living, except my prince charming’s in love with someone else.





	

**Author's Note:**

> first work posted on this acc! secret santa gift to tumblr user dodraugmaja, hope u enjoy it :-) 
> 
> note. flower meanings for the four boys:  
> minghao (viscaria): will you dance with me?  
> junhui (cactus flower): usually used for maternal love but can be used for any love that thrives in harsh condition  
> wonwoo (black rose): mourning, loneliness, isolation  
> mingyu (african moon, a kind of large white daisy): cheerfulnesss, innocence

i. minghao pov

xu minghao thinks in chinese. he breathes in chinese. he dances in chinese. so it’s only natural that the first member he clings to in seventeen does the same, and that’s exactly wen junhui.

 

it’s strange, minghao thinks, that despite junhui possibly being the most irritating, childish, self-obsessed person minghao ever met, he still held the position closest to minghao’s heart. you would think that after someone sprays spit at you the first time you meet, they wouldn’t end up being the first person you confide in, especially after they’d both long become fluent in korean.

 

junhui’s hair may have been cut shorter, his shoulders broadened, and his lanky frame filled in with muscle now, but he still acted like the same greasy brat that he had been back when they were trainees and minghao wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.

 

now the performance unit were together in the practice room going over their choreography for an upcoming stage while the other units were back in the studio recording their unit songs. minghao was still struggling to pin down a specific combination of tumbles for his solo section, too used to the spontaneity of b-boying in this style to settle on the same one every time. he had just worked out a particular combination that felt good and decided to give his aching limbs a break. he stepped away from the centre of the practice room and gestured to junhui to take the space to practice, since chan and soonyoung were busy discussing another segment of the choreography.

 

junhui strode over to the music player to change the song to the one used for his segment, bouncing on the balls of his feet and stretching his arms out in front of him. minghao couldn’t help but think that he really had changed a lot in the past few years, at least physically, remembering the gangly, uncoordinated mess that had spoken to him so animatedly when he first stepped into the dorms.

 

even though he was still kind of a dork, minghao couldn’t help but admit that junhui really had become extremely attractive over the years, growing into his prominent bone structure and filling out with muscle. it was even more obvious now, when the heavy thrumming bass in junhui’s track filled the room. the way that jun carried himself was completely different once he started dancing, from his powerful movements to his intense gaze.

 

watching junhui snap his arms into place and roll his hips, all the while staring at his own image in the mirror, minghao felt a chill run down his spine, settling in a weight in his stomach. _shit_ , minghao thought, _he really is beautiful, what’s wrong with me._

 

junhui threw himself into his trademark kick and stuck his landing, blinking his intense eyes onto minghao for a second before breaking into a grin.

 

“hao hao, was that okay? you look kinda worried about something,” jun walked over to grab his water bottle, relinquishing the dancing space to chan, who was anxiously pacing at the back of the room trying to simultaneously practice a rap verse and recall choreography.

 

“it’s ok jun-ge, i was just thinking about something else, you looked good, don’t worry.”

 

“i know,” junhui said, preening in the praise like a peacock, “seriously though, what’s on your mind.”

 

minghao was about to turn around and reassure junhui that he was fine, when he felt the familiar, reassuring warmth of junhui’s arm slung over his shoulders. instead of feeling more relaxed, however, he only felt the panic within him rise, his chest tightening.

 

“i’m fine, ge, just not feeling too good,” minghao choked out, feeling his ribs cave even more at the gentle smile junhui gave him. _just breathe, minghao, you’ve done this before, just breathe and you’ll be fine._

 

“you should go back to the dorm if you’re not feeling well, you’re already almost done with your part, go back and rest.” junhui’s arm squeezed around minghao’s shoulders, turning him in the direction of the door, “i’ll see you later, hao, go take a nap or something.”

 

frantically swallowing to calm the tickling in his throat, minghao couldn’t answer, nodding his head as junhui suddenly pulled him in for a hug.

 

“take care okay, hao, i’ll try and go back to the dorms soon to check on you, if you need anything call me.”

 

minghao could feel his chest constricting again, lungs threatening to burst against his straining ribcage. he pushed himself away from junhui’s arms the moment they loosened, scrambling to the practice room door.

 

minghao looked back in, closing the practice room door. he could still see the slightly stunned expression on junhui’s face- he was probably wondering why he had bolted like that but minghao had no time to explain.

 

outside the practice room, he could feel a cough bubbling up his throat as he slid down against the wall. the familiar squeezing in his chest could no longer be held off, minghao’s thin frame shaking with the force of the wracking cough rising from his lungs.

 

he could feel the satin-smooth petals emerging from his throat, at first one at a time, then coming up in a constant stream, clogging his throat. minghao covered his mouth with his hand frantically, trying to stop the flow of petals, despite knowing already that it wouldn’t work. the bluish petals started to spill over the edges of minghao’s hand, slipping between his fingers and coming to rest on his legs and on the floor around him.

 

as the coughing finally stopped, minghao let out a wheezy laugh, fingering one of the small petals. he had googled it back when it had all started a couple of months ago: the petals were a symbol of unrequited love for the sufferer apparently. his manifested in the form of viscaria flowers.

 

it was funny- they traditionally meant “will you dance with me?” how ironic, considering their circumstances. minghao smiled bitterly, gathering up the petals and stuffing them into the pockets of his hoodie so that he could dispose of them when he got back to the dorm.

 

wouldn’t do him any good if any of the members were to find out.

 

ii. junhui pov

wen junhui is in love with a boy who makes possibly the worst jokes in all of existence. wen junhui thinks they’re awful, actually, but for some reason still laughs at them (that’s a lie, he knows why he laughs).

 

it was bad though, because it seemed that the more junhui fell for him, the more these jokes brought chest-constricting petals than laughter.

 

junhui may have been a fool, but he wasn’t stupid. he knew why it was happening and he saw the way wonwoo’s eyes shone especially bright when he looked at mingyu, saw the way wonwoo, who rarely relinquished his books to anyone, gladly lent them to mingyu, knowing full well mingyu would probably drop them on the floor at some point.

 

but junhui is a fool and he cannot stop himself from falling now.

 

the members were back together in the dorms after unit practice, having far overshot a normal hour for dinner. mingyu was in the kitchen cooking ramen for the thirteen of them to share and the rest of them were just lounging around one of the dorm rooms. minghao was napping one of the beds next to junhui- _probably still feeling under the weather from just now_ , junhui thought.

 

he absentmindedly ran his fingers through minghao’s hair, cringing when he hit a snag. junhui was comfortable like this, just gently untangling minghao’s hair, taking care of him just like when they were still trainees. minghao reminded him a bit of fengjun, especially in the way he clung to junhui, then complained about junhui being too touchy.

 

junhui felt a tap on his shoulder. it was jisoo.

 

“mingyu’s about done, come help grab some of the bowls with me and seungcheol”, jisoo covered his mouth, hiding a yawn. junhui looked down at his lap and realised that minghao had somehow migrated in his sleep to place his head on junhui’s lap. looking up at jisoo again, he gestured at minghao helplessly

 

“he’s not feeling too good, i really don’t want to wake him up.” he whispered, glancing apologetically at jisoo, who just sighed and looked around for someone else to rope in.

 

wonwoo, who had been tapping at his ancient laptop (seriously it had been around since they were trainees and even then it was considered old) next to them got up, gesturing towards minghao, who was still curled up at junhui’s side.

 

“i’ll do it, he looks like he needs to rest”, wonwoo glanced at minghao’s pallid complexion. junhui smiled at him appreciatively, trying to ignore the tell-tale clenching of his chest.

 

 _breathe, junhui, just breathe._ as long as he kept breathing, it would be fine, he could control himself.

 

 _i wonder if haohao would kill me if i braided his hair_ , junhui pondered, stroking the younger one’s hair as he tried to calm the scratching feeling in his throat. according to what he had read on the internet two weeks ago when _it_ first happened, it wouldn’t be so easy to stave off in a few days, he wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening at anymore, only delay it by mere minutes at most.

 

lost in thought, junhui didn’t notice that jisoo, mingyu, and wonwoo and seungcheol had somehow balanced thirteen bowls of ramen between them and set them on the floor in the middle of the room.

 

suddenly, a bowl of steaming ramen was set in front of him.

 

 _something about this smells different compared to the ramen mingyu usually makes_ , junhui noticed there was the sharp scent of chilli oil mixed in with the ramen. he followed the hand that brought the ramen to him to realise that it was wonwoo, who let a small smile flash as he murmured,

 

“i thought you wouldn’t want to get up since minghao is still out like a light, so i brought it for you with some chilli oil in it since you mentioned you were craving spicy food when you came back from practice.”

 

junhui would be lying if he said he didn’t feel his lungs burning against his sternum again.

 

he didn’t trust himself not to start hacking right there and then if he opened his mouth so he grinned as best as he could, feeling his face and ears turn warm. junhui turned back to minghao to gently shake him awake- after all, he couldn’t let him skip more meals, lest whatever illness he had got worse.

 

as minghao sat upright and brought his hands up to rub at his groggy eyes, junhui turned back to his ramen and scooped some of the soup into his mouth.

 

 _ah, i really have been craving spicy food recently_ , he thought, relishing in the heat the soup brought. along this train of thought, he wondered how wonwoo had managed to remember something he had only briefly dwelt upon as a passing statement and actually do something in response to it, _well, he’s always been perceptive, and i’m not surprised he would do this, he’s actually really sweet._

 

junhui felt the walls of his throat constrict again- he really should stop letting his mind wander like that, one day he wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time and it wouldn’t be good if any of the members, or worse, the staff, found out about his… _condition_.

 

looking around the dorm room, he realised each member was engrossed in eating their ramen, starving after a long day of practicing. surely no one would notice if he just coughed, right. it would definitely feel a lot better than stifling it, he hadn’t let any petals go this entire day and it was starting to take a toll on him, both physically and mentally.

 

carefully, he turned away from the center of the room, bringing his hand to cover his mouth. junhui tried to relax his throat as much as he could, he found that this was the most painless way to release the cursed flowers. he tried to mute the choked wheeze he let out as the petals he had been suppressing, catching them in the palm of his hand.

 

bringing the petals down, he noticed that _yet again_ the petals had brought a smattering of needles up with them. of course, out of all the flowers he could have growing in his chest cavity it _had_ to be a kind of cactus. they kind of reminded junhui of wonwoo though, how pretty they were and yet if you fell too hard, you were definitely going to get hurt.

 

the long white petals were speckled with rust-brown, blood, junhui assumed, considering the fact that he literally had cacti with _thorns_ inside of his lungs.

 

 _ha, it’s almost poetic, the way i'm torturing myself for this sick love,_ he chuckled bitterly to himself, stuffing the petals into the pocket of his pants discreetly.

 

_some fairy tale i’m living, except my prince charming’s in love with someone else._

 

iii. wonwoo pov

jeon wonwoo likes order. he likes crossword puzzles and arranging his clothes by colour then by style and he likes to have the edges of his fingernails trimmed with an equal border of white all the way around.

 

jeon wonwoo likes order and it makes absolutely no sense for him to become so... so _attached_ to someone who can’t even remember the right order of operations (you learn that in primary school, for god’s sake).

 

kim mingyu puts the ramen noodles into water before the flavouring packets, puts toothpaste on his toothbrush before he wets it, and occasionally even leaves each of his shoes in separate locations (who even does that? _how_ do you even do that?).

 

but somehow or another wonwoo finds his life inexplicably intertwined with mingyu’s by sheer virtue of the fact that he’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to stop himself from falling in love.

 

it’s been so long that wonwoo doesn’t even remember when he first started coughing up the waxy white petals.

 

was it back when they were still trainees in the green practice room, where mingyu would drape himself all over wonwoo despite his protests, all but forcefully endearing himself to the elder? or during their debut project, when it was so tiring that wonwoo couldn’t even bring himself to tell mingyu to go away when they walked back to the dorms together at some ungodly hour. or was it during their shooting of one fine day, when mingyu was the miracle life savour of the group, cooking for them almost every meal?

 

well, it didn’t matter. it was too late now to do anything about it anyway.

 

he’d read about something pretty useful in one of his books. people tend to find excuses to be near the people they like, people tend to do nice things for the people they like. with that, it was eerily simple to direct attention towards everyone, doing little favours here and there for each of the members, masking every instinct in his body that told him to face mingyu when they were all in the room together like this.

 

maybe some of the more observant members might have caught on, but wonwoo stopped himself from doing anything too obvious that would’ve explicitly showed signs of attraction.

 

mingyu, seokmin and minghao were on dish duty today, kind of unfair considering mingyu had cooked for the entire group but that was just the way their duty roster worked. walking around the room, mingyu stack the (mostly) empty bowls up to carry them in the kitchen.

 

the way mingyu stacked the bowls up with the cutlery still inside them made wonwoo want to violently cringe and/or lecture him about the right way to stack them up but he forgoes that in favour of sneaking peeks at his toothy smile when the members thank him. it’s only at times like this, when everyone is dead tired and too sleepy to notice if anything was out of the ordinary, that wonwoo dares to let go of his usual self-restraint.

 

of course it was a lot harder to avoid during fansigns and fanmeetings, where skinship was a must in order to encourage the fans to continue to support them. it wasn’t so much pandering to the fans' whims and fancies but rather just being more handsy with some of the other members.

 

it was easy for him to dismiss it as just fanservice, thinking about it now, but it was a completely different story when he would be watching one of the other members demonstrate a special talent or carry out a mission and mingyu would just saunter over and drape 75% of his body over wonwoo’s without any warning. thankfully, he had gotten used to it enough to not blush furiously- or worse, start coughing- in front of the fans, but it still caused a rush of warmth through his body and that awful, awful tight feeling in his chest.

 

so when kim mingyu, giant puppy extraordinaire extends wonwoo a hand to help him get up after dinner, it takes every inch of self control he has gathered up over the years to stop himself from coughing in response, instead opting to swat at mingyu’s hand annoyedly, gesturing at the dorm’s shared bathroom, where at least he will have some semblance of privacy to clear his throat.

 

slumping onto the off-white tiling of the bathroom floor, wonwoo yanked at the sleeves of his sweater, pulling it off to relieve the suffocating feeling he had been nursing in his chest. he knew it wasn't a good idea to hold it in for so long each time, knew it would only make it worse, but what could he do- from the beginning, he had already had the hectic practices of a trainee lifestyle, which only got worse when they debuted, never going more than two days without a schedule or training. any time not spent on official schedules or practice was usually still with the other members, with mingyu, so wonwoo was hard pressed for a moment to excuse himself without anyone following him to make sure he was alright.

 _so now_ , wonwoo thought, _was one of the rare opportunities he could truly just let it out and be honest with himself about his feelings, the feeling he was harbouring for-_

 

“mingyu-yah! the dishes are waiting”, wonwoo heard seokmin yell from a distance, supposedly the kitchen, and the sound of padding footsteps getting further.

 

“alright, alright, i was just talking to wonwoo-hyung! i’ll be there in a moment!” mingyu sounded like a whiny, petulant child- or a kicked puppy. a huge, dorky, clumsy puppy with a penchant for stealing hearts.

 

 _shit, i need to somehow stop this_ , wonwoo thought, clutching at his aching chest. he knew that the only way to stop the never-ending itch would be to get the operation which would completely remove his feelings of emotion towards mingyu, _i’m not going to let go of that._

 

bracing his right hand against the cold tiling of the bathroom walls, he tilted his heads downwards towards the toilet bowl, rubbing at his sternum with his left hand as if it would somehow coerce the blooms there to emerge in a less painful way. of course, it never worked but it was always worth a try, right?

 

wonwoo felt the scratching grow unbearable in his throat, he slammed his left hand next to his right onto the wall, bearing his entire weight on his two hands as he began to hack uncontrollably, silky rose petals cascading from his mouth into the toilet. the soft black petals still scraped at the rawness of his throat, stinging and bringing with them large droplets of blood, turning the water a translucent red.

 

 _huh._ it was almost beautiful, the mountain of dark petals floating on a sea of red.

 

standing upright again, wonwoo flushed all evidence down the drain with the press of a button, supporting himself with one hand on the edge of the sink lest he lose his balance after the incident and fall. _that would be disastrous,_ wonwoo thought, _imagine if mingyu were the one to find me. it would be awful if he found out after i’ve hidden it for so long._

 

_just breathe, wonwoo, it’s been years and none of them even have a clue._

 

once his head stopped spinning, he washed his hands, unlocking the door with one, dragging the other across his mouth roughly to remove any drops of blood that may have lingered. wonwoo swallowed harshly, bracing himself to face mingyu’s hyperactive energy.

 

hopefully he wouldn’t have to excuse himself again.

 

iv. mingyu pov

kim mingyu loves to smile. he loves to laugh, he loves to talk, and he especially loves hugging everyone. e v e r y o n e. especially wonwoo, because wonwoo didn’t really smile or laugh or talk or let anyone other than mingyu hug him until recently. it made mingyu feel happy and wanted and loved, which was great, because for someone so chatty he really didn’t get that much attention from the rest of the members, since they preferred to focus on bringing the quieter ones out of their shell.

 

but more than he loved to hug wonwoo, he loved xu minghao.

 

it didn’t make sense. at all. considering any time mingyu tried to even hold minghao’s hand during fanmeetings during their last tour minghao would just pull his hand back and look away, mingyu really shouldn’t have let himself fall so deep but even when they were trainees, he had been fascinated by the way minghao kept to himself and junhui-hyung, not really talking much to any of the other members.

 

then, when he had a stronger grasp of korean, minghao started talking back to the members, chiding them with snarky remarks and sarcasm, as if to remind them that he was still there, when he would fade into the background during group discussions.

 

the more minghao came out of his shell, the more mingyu felt a need to grow closer to him, to get to know him. little did he know that it would end in something so tortured being dragged out of him but he still didn’t regret it, every time he saw minghao flash him one of those shy little smiles that rarely appeared, since minghao was often too busy sassing every single member of the group.

 

but it was only recently that minghao started to initiate physical contact with mingyu, shoving him around and tiptoeing up to ruffle his hair, and it was even more recently- well, three days ago to be exact- that mingyu found himself having to choke back giant white daisy petals that threatened to erupt from his throat every time minghao so much as looked in his direction.

 

it was horrible and kind of embarrassing but at the same time he felt relieved. at least this way, he wouldn’t have to even worry about whether minghao felt the same way, or if them having any kind of relationship would strain the bond between the members. mingyu tried his best to see the brighter side of the situation, anyway- even though it is kind of hard to see the bright side in having a potentially fatal disease that represents your unrequited love for your totally unattainable bandmate, which manifests in a giant daisy plantation in your chest apparently.

 

and minghao just had to be so damn cute all the time, especially when they were washing the dishes and minghao got a puff of soap sud on the tip of his nose and he didn’t notice. mingyu had to actually forcibly stop himself from squealing, instead opting to wipe it off gently-

 

before flicking it back onto minghao’s unfairly long neck, where he knew the cold of the soap would shock him. minghao let out a very cute, very endearing shriek, before glaring at mingyu- and that was when mingyu knew he had fucked up.

 

gathering the soap on his hands into one larger-than-expected ball of impending doom, minghao stepped towards mingyu, making the far taller boy cower like a housecat in a fight with a stray. mingyu gulped, backing away slowly. _maybe if i move slow enough he won’t notice-_

 

and his back hit the wall with a thud. he was cornered and minghao looked intimidating as heck right now but also _why are his eyes so pretty when he’s mad and why do i find that attractive and why is his hair drooping over his eyes like that it's so hot and why do i still want to brush it back for him and_

 

“close your eyes, pretty boy, don’t want you to go blind before our concert” minghao laughed a little to himself.

 

trying to ignore how much he enjoyed that sound, mingyu closed his eyes gingerly, barely getting them completely closed before something very wet and very squishy slapped itself onto his face.

 

mingyu brought his hand up to his face to wipe as much of the suds off as he could before putting on the sulkiest puppy face he had, whining, “hao-yah, that was really mean...now my face is all sticky and gross!”

 

pouting at minghao, mingyu tried to control the thudding of his heart, straining against his ribs painfully as minghao brought a hand up to his face to wipe away a spot he missed, saying,

 

“well, i guess you should’ve known better than to try something like that with me, gyu, you know i always get revenge.”

 

“i’m going to go and nap with jun-ge for a bit before the meeting,” drying the last dish in his hand, minghao rose up on his toes to ruffle mingyu’s hair, something he had recently made a habit of, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving mingyu there to splutter at his back, spraying bits of soap suds onto the kitchen counter.

 

his chest was tightening again at an alarmingly fast rate and mingyu didn’t know how to stop it. he slammed both his hands onto the counter, hacking loudly until his throat felt clear (and very very pained) again, leaving a small pile of long daisy petals on the floor in front of the counter.

 

_just breathe, the article said that breathing slowly helps to make it less painful._

 

“gyu, you alright?” one of the members asked from the dorm room. clearing his throat, mingyu tried to reply but couldn’t.

 

he swallowed frantically, then tried again, “yeah, yeah i’m fine, don’t worry,” succeeding in squeezing a semblance of his usual tone out of his stinging throat.

 

sweeping the petals into the bin that was so conveniently placed in a corner of the kitchen, mingyu poured himself a glass of water, trying not to sink to the ground in despair.

 

_it’s going to be fine. i can learn how to control this. i can do that at least, even if i can’t stop loving him._

 

v. mixed pov

lying in his bed that night, staring at the panels of the top bunk unable to fall asleep, he thought to himself, clutching a petal in his fist-

 

_just breathe_

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this!! leave a kudos/comment and let me know how this was, i would really appreciate it :-) merry xmas, happy new year, and keep loving seventeen


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